Sunday, October 28, 2012

M.I.S.T. Campaign: Session 51



Well if there’s one thing Ares and I can agree on it’s that neither of us are much for cloak and dagger escapades.  But that’s where we found ourselves, trying to make contact with Artemis and Ares whilst avoiding any Dodekatheon agents on the other side.  It does make me wonder why those two decided to set up shop here.  I mean, sure Mot mentioned that this city has always been a sanctuary for Ares.  But if they’re sneaking around themselves they don’t seem to think that they’re very safe here.

Anyway, someone slipped a phone into Lexi’s pocket.  One of the older flip phones, with the emblem of a wolf embossed on the back.  Given that it happened in Rome, can there be any doubt as to who arranged that?  So Ken went out to scout around while the rest of us settled in at a cafĂ© to wait for the phone to be called.  And to let Lexi get some coffee, she looked dead on her feet from being up all night in Duat.

It didn’t take too long for the call to come, and Ares directed us towards the old aquaducts.  Artemis had left a marker that Cindy would be able to find with her power over the moon.  I pulled some clouds down from the sky to give us fog cover as we set out, now that we were no longer hoping to run into anyone, and Lexi pulled out a nice new Pyschopomp trick to transport us to the aquaduct almost instantly.

To that point, things had been going incredibly well.  So of course they went FUBAR almost immediately afterwards.

Cindy was pretty sure that Artemis had used Moon Letters to leave her breadcrumb trail.  So Cindy would have to become the full moon to be certain to reveal them. Which in and of itself isn’t necessarily a problem, except for the werewolf we had coming back through the fog to regroup with us.  The light of the full moon seemed to have quite the effect on both Ken and Rufus, and we ended up with two beasts in the grip of lycanthropy ambushing us through the fog.

Like I said, FUBAR.

Sunday, October 21, 2012

M.I.S.T. Campaign: Session 51



So we were sent to Rome because our Dodekatheon allies, presumably Ares and Artemis, were waiting for us there.  Convenient I suppose, I’m hoping for a chance to speak to Artemis.  Though I suppose that, to be entirely accurately, we were sent to the Vatican.  It’s Elohim territory, apparently, and the Psedjet have long-standing friendly relations with them.  There’s also a “beacon” of sorts there created by Kothar that apparently makes it easy to send people to via Psychopomp.

Kothar was one of two of the Elohim present when we arrived, and seemed mainly interested in finding out why the beacon hadn’t brought Ken there with the rest of us (more on that later).  Though he also made a pass at Lexi, who didn’t seem interested.  The other was Mot, who despite his rather ominous reputation seemed rather pleasant.  Though Claire seemed to get dangerously close to getting under his skin when she got a bit bitchy with him, something she’s been doing all too often lately upon meeting new divinities.  Thankfully he just rebuked her, had her promise not to try to entangle the Vatican in the upcoming conflict, and we were on our way.

Ken was nearby, Lexi asked the music to figure out where she was, and said Hera had diverted her in order to ask about her intentions.  Whether she wanted to restore the pantheon to its former glory or just wanted to mess with it.  She said she was the one singled out specifically because of family history, but I’m sure there’s a bit more to it than that.  After all, if Hera was just concerned about intentions towards Olympus Claire would’ve definitely been the one to ask.  She’s the one that really got this whole mess going, after all.

Rufus was back to, in a way, now a creature of shadow and moonlight instead of flesh and blood.  And he seemed distinctly less friendly as well.  There’s no doubt that his ordeal in Duat has changed him in more ways than one…the question is, to what extent?

Friday, October 5, 2012

M.I.S.T. Campaign: Session 50



Well it went according to plan, more or less.  I threw a quick punch that I’d just intended to use to get its attention, but it actually looked like it did some serious damage.  In any event, it forced the serpent to skin-shed, and bought me the time I needed to fly up out of range before it could counterattack.  But then came the lone hitch when it entranced me with its gaze, I hadn’t anticipated that.

I could hear the others on the barque as it drifted further and further away, debating on how to break the effect before I was left behind.  The consensus they came up with seemed to be trying to shoot its eyes out.  But I knew full well how fast and tough the thing was.  Under the circumstances, even Ken would likely have trouble taking out an eye with a shot.  And the snake had two of them after all.

So I told her to shoot me.  I recognized the trick the snake used, pain snaps it every time.  And boy did the shot hurt.  Even with her aiming for a leg, I can’t quite be sure if anyone else in the band would have been able to survive it without burning legend to regenerate the damage.  But it broke the trance, that was the important part.

I flipped around in mid-air and headed towards the barque, of course.  It had put quite a distance between itself and the serpent by now.  Of course, I also gave the creature one last token of my esteem.  The destructive potential of the sky has long been the most effective weapon against serpents, dragons, and their ilk in mythologies across many cultures.  And the entire desert lit clear as day as I rained the fury of the heavens down upon the son of Apep.

It worked as well as I could have possibly hoped.  The bolt tore through it like so much tissue paper.  Blood boiled off in a flash, bones cracked under searing heat, flesh simply vaporized or sloughed to the ground.  And with that one mighty attack, resonating with the fateful connections of myths across the world, I seared my foe off the face of Duat.

That’s just how thunder gods roll.

There was, however, little time for celebration; as we found ourselves before the Scales of Ma’at soon after the beast’s defeat.  The six younger Scions weighed their hearts first, with Andrew stepping onto the scales after them.  Unsurprisingly, all of the Psedjet passed without incident.

Of the rest of us, I was the only one not to get wet.  Something I can’t help but take a measure of pride in.  My time on the scale was nothing short of…triumphant.  I could hear a voice that must have been Ma’at’s.  She welcomed me to the heart of Duat, sung of my triumphs, and praised my conviction.  Praises, honor, things I could barely hope to receive from most of the Æsir.  And receiving them there, on the Scales of Ma’at, I could just feel some of the weight falling from my shoulders.  A welcome experience, especially after the dark dreariness of Duat.

Lexi didn’t have it too much harder than me.  Her feet got a bit wet, but she emerged from it even more radiant than ever.  Claire and Ken were both submerged up to their chest, but emerged without showing any ill effects.  Cindy had it the worst of us, by far.  I don’t doubt that Utgard-Loki’s corruption played a part in it.  In any event, she was submerged completely, and could barely stand upon emerging from the waters.  But it seemed to undo the corruption, or at least cause it to regress.  The increased size that the Jotun’s influence had caused was no longer evident.

Almost as soon as we finished being judged by the scale Anubis arrived, shortly before the hounds of Erebus apparently.  Next we were going to Rome, apparently, a destination that caught me by surprise.  One would think it would be one of the places where the Dodekatheon influence is strongest.  It seems an unlikely staging area.  So it’ll be interesting to see what the city has in store for us.

Saturday, September 29, 2012

M.I.S.T. Campaign: Session 49



At least I had the foresight to take a firm hold of a rope as we entered the labyrinth.  It likely saved me another trip overboard.  This time because a serpent burrowed up from the sandy ground and burst through the labyrinth’s shallow waters to attack us.  Almost running us aground in the process.

Naturally Cindy wasted little time in leaping to attack.  Which turned out…not to be the best of ideas.  It left Duamatef vulnerable.  That made one thing suddenly, and abundantly, clear.  With the girls protecting the Deities of the Canopic Jars, and Andrew guiding the ritual, I was the only one truly free to deal with the serpent.

So I told them to get out of there.  I’d take the snake while they got to safety.  Is it reckless of me?  Certainly.  It’s stronger and tougher than I am, more agile than Cindy.  It’s more powerful than anything I could reasonably be expected to handle on my own.

But it still looked like our best bet.

Besides, Marduk was ostensibly outmatched by Tiamat, and for all his strengths Zeus is not the engine of destruction that Typhon is.  Yet both gods defeated those foes.  Even if it is mutual, my uncle Jormungand is fated to fall to Thor.  Hino unceasingly hunts the horned serpents, and should he find them there death is inevitable.  Though Andrew was the one that finalized the mystical bindings it was my father who weakened Kur enough to be bound by a pair of Demigods, and I was the one that wrapped him in the chain Gleipnir.

It is a theme that echoes across tales, cultures, and time.  Dragons fall like autumn leaves in a gale before those who lord over such winds.  I will simply have to ensure that it stays that way.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

M.I.S.T. Campaign: Session 48



Helheim is renowned as a land that’s as bleak as it is harsh; a place of gloom and freezing cold, permanently expressing the extremes of the northern climate that the ancient Norse resided in.  Having been there myself I know those tales are not far off.  Mere exposure to the frigid temperatures themselves would be enough to kill any hapless mortal who made it that far down Yggsdragsil alive.  There’s not a scrap of comfort to be found anywhere in the realm unless Hel herself decides to provide it.  And my Mother is hardly known for such kindnesses.  Not to mention that despite being its unquestioned ruler she wants little more than to escape the chains of the land that has been her prison for all her life.

All this is true, and I’m not even sure mere words can truly express what the place is like.

Yet I’d sooner spend another month in my Mother’s realm than another second in Duat.  I may no longer be immersed in the river Urnes.  But the sense of dread inevitability it imparts cannot be sluiced away so easily as its waters.  As we passed through the second and third gates I could feel it, waiting beneath us.  Even if most of us survived the disastrous encounter of a few hours before we have not escaped, not in the eyes of the river.  We have merely managed to gain a reprieve.

It is still waiting, it will always be waiting.  Until we slip up, and it can claim us for its endless, ebon, depths.  That time isn’t necessarily far off as we approach the labyrinth.  Rocks loom just beneath the surface, and extend upwards to form the walls of the maze.  A single mistake is all it will take to shred our hull like paper.  Then we will be spilled into the river once more.

Except this time there will be no sanctuary to return to.

This time the river will relinquish no prizes.

This time...will be the last time.